The mist-shrouded forest thickened as Andrey and Lumy pressed deeper into the gate. The air grew cooler, carrying a faint, musky scent that didn't belong to the trees or the damp earth.
Andrey's hand tightened on his staff. He slowed his pace, his Ki senses extending outward, probing the shadows between the ancient trunks.
"Stop," he said quietly.
Lumy froze beside him, her hand instinctively moving to the pistol holstered at her thigh. "What is it?"
Andrey's eyes scanned the treeline ahead. A flicker of movement—low to the ground, deliberate. Then another. And another.
"They're surrounding us," he murmured.
From the mist, shapes began to emerge. They were short, hunched figures with scaled, mottled skin, their bodies covered in crude leather armor and mismatched metal scraps. Their faces were reptilian—snout-like, with sharp, yellowed teeth and beady eyes that gleamed with cunning. Some carried rusted swords, others clutched crude bows with arrows already nocked.
Kobolds.
